The summer following my graduation from high school I worked for Ray G. on his farm on Whidbey Island on the Puget Sound in Washington state. Primarily I was bucking alfalfa and hay bales, and stacking them in the loft of the barn as they fell off the elevator. It was the hardest work I'd ever done, and I had the dubious distinction of being the only "city kid" who didn't quit. I liked being treated my Ray as an "adult" hand, and loved the fact that I was charged with breaking 4 three year old colts. We worked from sunup to sundown, went in for dinner where Ray fell asleep on the kitchen floor. We would wake him up to go hook up the half dozen dairy cows to milking machines. I slept in the hay loft, and dated the pig farmer's daughter on the neighboring farm.
